Readers Mailbag: Rubik's Cubes, Bruce Lee and Prince Charles

Please, for once and for all, clear up this urban legend about your fight with Bruce Lee? It’s bullshit, right?


Far from it Jim. Bruce and I had wildly differing philosophies on fighting, and things came to a head in 1969 outside a Greenwich Village café. I’ve always believed in the element of surprise, so I marched straight up to Lee and punched his wife in the face. This seemed to infuriate Bruce, and his sensitive wife. Magnanimously, I extended my hand and offered a draw, but Bruce insisted on continuing the bout.

I told him it was his funeral, and launched into a jumping, spinning, reversal roundhouse kick. As luck would have it, I pulled my groin in mid-air and landed in a wheelie bin. Needless to say Bruce rained punches into the bin until I was a bloody pulp. He then antagonised an alley cat before throwing it in on top of me and closing the lid, which I felt was excessive.

Bruce and I became firm friends after our duel, and laughed about it for years afterwards. Not his wife though. She never saw the funny side. Some people are just born sour.

I saw what you were doing to that horse last Friday night. What the hell is wrong with you?


That was actually a donkey Jennifer, though I can see how you’d make that mistake. A donkey is smaller than a horse, with rounder ears.

You sick fuck. I nearly crashed my car when I saw what you were doing to that mule on Friday.


That was actually a donkey Tony, though I can see how you’d make that mistake. A mule is the sterile offspring of a donkey and a horse. Generally, it is smaller than a horse but larger than a donkey. The ears will be rounded, but not so round as a donkey’s.

I swear, I’d pull the mickey off you.


Don’t you threaten me Sandra, unless I’ve misread the situation and you’re actually coming onto me, in which case work away.

You famously threw a half-eaten Curly Wurly at Prince Charles backstage at a Royal Variety show. Why?


To prove a point Derek. Today a Curly Wurly, tomorrow a hatchet. I sought to expose deficiencies in his security detail, and I believe I succeeded. It’s the exact same reason I stitched Nelson Mandela a loaf in 1998, set fire to Des Lynam in 1996, and fired Bett Middler through a plate glass window in 1992. And how did they all thank me? With lawsuits. There’s your modern gratitude.

Did you really invent the Rubik’s cube?


Yes and no Lucy. I invented the ‘Flann Spike’ in the early 70s, a mechanical puzzle that tasked players with colour-coordinating moving squares upon a razor-sharp metal spike. What I hadn’t considered, was the puzzle’s suitability as a weapon.

News reports of the time commonly featured quotes such as “…autopsies revealed the man had been Flann Spiked in the abdomen…”, or “…detectives speculate the victim was either gored by a herd of African elephants, or felled by a single blow from a smallish Flann Spike.”

From the embers of my failed puzzle, some jerk called Erno Rubik swooped in, refined the design into a cube and never credited me. A year later he himself was Flann Spiked in a darkened alley, and ironically, only survived by hurling a Rubik’s Cube at his assailant, who was never identified or caught. As an aside, a Rubik’s Cube fired into the temple of a man my exact size and weight (for example), can knock him clean out.

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